


Shotguns and Serendipity

by iscatterthemintimeandspace



Series: Writer's Club Prompts [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Gen, M/M, Prompt Fic, Zombie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8567908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iscatterthemintimeandspace/pseuds/iscatterthemintimeandspace
Summary: For the Unnatural Writer's Club of the SPN AminoPrompt:  "I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to your semi-automatic rifle."Gabriel Novak had never believed in serendipity, but that fact that a horde of zombies and a unattended rifle lead him to the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen might have him believing.





	

Gabriel was going to die. 

 

There was a pack of walkers behind him, he had no more bullets, and his ankle was sprained- fuck- he was a dead man. 

 

He and Castiel were out on a run, getting supplies when the hoard hit. Cas ran one way and he ran the other, hoping that the biters would be easier to pick off in two groups rather than one, but there were more than he expected, and he’d long since run out of ammunition. He’d fallen into a rabbit hole trying to lose the walkers, and barely escaped being torn to shreds. 

 

He’d been stumble-running for miles, his ankle throbbing angrily with every step. Gabriel still had his machete, but there was no way he could take on forty zombies with a knife and a busted ankle. He needed to get somewhere safe, and then he could try and think his way out of this, if he lived that long. 

 

Gabriel looked around, cursing under his breath as his ankle screamed out in agony. There was sweat trickling down the back of his neck and his hand was shaking from the pain. He swept side to side, looking for something, anything to give him a place to rest for only a little while. 

 

He didn’t know whether it was luck or fate, but he spotted a barn to his left, past a thicket of trees. If he could just make it over there, he’d be home free. 

 

A walker lurched out of the wood, snarling and snapping at him. Gabriel shuffled forward, swinging the machete and burying it in the creature’s neck. He couldn’t afford to have it attract the attention of the others, and he severed the neck with another slash. The head tumbled and rolled into the grass, the body falling over with a muffled thud. 

 

Gabriel raced to the safety of the trees, biting his lip to stifle the groans of pain threatening to erupt from his throat. He could do this, he told himself, teeth grinding as he stumbled through the underbrush. He had to do this. Cas was out there somewhere, and he needed him. 

 

Gabriel limped through the trees, pausing to listen for the hoard. They were far too close for his taste. He only had one shot. 

 

Taking a deep steadying breath, Gabriel began to limp towards the barn, his teeth clamped firmly to his bottom lip. His mouth filled with the warm metallic taste of blood as he struggle not to make any noise. The hoard hadn't noticed his movement over the sound of their own groans, and he prayed it stayed that way as he quickly approached the safety of the barn. 

 

The doors were closed, but he figured a good push would open them. He was wrong. The door didn’t budge, and the loud crack of the wood turned several walkers heads. 

 

“Shit,” Gabriel cursed under his breath. “Fuckfuckfuck,” he put his shoulder into it, hoping that the door was just rusted shut, but it didn’t budge. “FUCK.”

 

He hit it over and over, as the walkers closed in, now fully fixated on him the the racket he was making. Finally he took a running start, throwing his whole body weight against the door in a last ditch attempt. Luckily for him, the door gave way, and he flopped down onto the dusty floor. Shaking like a leaf, Gabriel scrambled to his feet, grabbing the closest object he could. He slammed the doors shut, and jammed the chair he’d taken up under the handle. He heard the biters hit against the door, but none of them broke through just yet. 

 

With the immediate crisis averted, Gabriel looked around, trying to find something to defend himself with. It was only a matter of time before they came through, and he wanted to take out as many as he could before they got him. He’d been hoping for a scythe or a hoe, but sitting there propped against the wall was his saving grace, a M1 Carbine, and it was loaded. 

 

He could breath again. 

 

Grinning, Gabriel picked the gun up. He could work with this. He’d done more with a lot less before. Using a ladder, and hammer, he knocked a hole in the barn door just big enough for the rifle and one eye, so he could start picking the creatures off one by one. He’d killed a dozen before a loud crash behind him alerted him to the barn’s other occupants. 

 

Gabriel whipped around on his perch to see two men burst in, guns raised and aiming for him. Suddenly how hard it had been to get into the barn made sense, that this was their space, and he’d brought a herd of zombies to their door, and had taken one of their weapons. 

 

They were tall, both at least five to six inches taller than him,well-built and handsome. He knew this wasn’t the time to think about it, but he would have been blind not to notice. 

 

“Uhhh,” Gabriel stammered. “I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to your semi-automatic rifle. There’s a hoard outside.” 

 

“How many?” the shorter one said, his green eyes flashing angrily. He came forward, his gun still pointed at Gabriel. 

 

They didn’t kill him outright, so that was a point in his favorite. “Forty or so,” Gabriel answered, keeping one eye on the men, and the other on the biters. “I’ve taken out around a quarter of them.”

 

The taller one joined his friend at the front of the barn, peeking through a crack in the wall. “He’s not lying, Dean,” 

 

“My brother and I were out on a run,” Gabriel explained quickly. “We got separated. I’ll be out of your hair once the hoard is gone. I need to find him.” 

 

Dean considered him for a moment and then looked at the other man, his gaze softening. Gabriel knew that look. He’d made that look at Cas, and Michael and Lucifer once upon a time. Brothers, then. 

 

The silence lasted for little more than a heartbeat. “Alright,” Dean conceded. “But don’t get any bright ideas. I won’t hesitate next time.” He turned and climbed into the hay loft, where a panel of the barn had been carved out. His brother quickly followed suit. 

 

Gabriel turned back to the door, and began picking off biters as quickly as he could. Between the three of them, it didn’t take them long to clear the herd. Carefully he climbed down the ladder and began to limp towards the opposite door. 

 

“Hey wait!” 

 

Gabriel turned to find Dean’s brother walking towards him, running a huge hand through his hair. “I promised to leave once this was over,” Gabriel replied. 

 

“But you’re hurt,” he protested. “You’ll get eaten alive with an injury like that.” 

 

“I’ll live,” Gabriel shrugged, trying to hide his grin. “I need to find my brother.” 

 

But the other man didn’t let up. “Let me wrap it, and we’ll help you look for him, won’t we, Dean?” 

 

Dean grumbled as he climbed down from the loft. “You owe me.” 

 

The tall man snorted at him, and bent to pick Gabriel up bridal style. 

 

“I can walk, Gigantor!” Gabriel bristled at being handled like a sack of potatoes. “Put me down!” 

 

“You’ve done enough damage to it already,” the other man pointed out, as he carried him towards the other side of the barn and into another room. He put Gabriel down gently on one of the beds. “And it’s Sam.” 

 

“Well thank you, Sam,” Gabriel offered begrudgingly. “For not killing me.” 

 

“Don’t mention it,” Sam smiled, and took off Gabriel’s boot. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” 

 

Gabriel hissed as the shoe was pulled away, his ankle resuming it’s angry throbbing. Sam made a move to push up his pant leg and Gabriel squawked. “Shit kid. At least buy me dinner first!” 

 

Sam stared at him for a second, and then began to laugh, and it was easily the most beautiful sound Gabriel had heard in a very long time. 

 

“How does skunked beer and canned meat sound?” Sam offered with a suggestive smirk. 

 

Gabriel flushed red, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He hadn’t expected Sam to respond like that. 

 

Clearly pleased with rendering him speechless, Sam chuckled, and took Gabriel’s ankle in his hand. 

 

Gabriel swore under his breath again, grinding his teeth in pain. “Fuck!” 

 

Sam didn’t miss a beat, and the look he shot Gabriel had him feeling like a teenager again

 

“Maybe later.” 

 

Gabriel was going to die.


End file.
